A Shakespeare Kind of Love
by potterwoman
Summary: Zoi was kidnapped as a child and given to a woman to raise her poorly. She was taught to hate the royal family--including Char and Ella. Until she falls in love with the prince... Sort of Romeo&Juliet. Sequel to Where Would I Hide Without the Mask?
1. Meet Zoi

***this is my third ella enchanted fic! the first one (Ella's Secret) was a real bomb. the second (Where Would I Hide Without the Mask?) was awesome. this one will hopefully be either somewhere in between or better than Where Would I Hid Without the Mask (although I dont think I can do much better than that). this story overlaps with that story, too, if you read it. enjoy!***  
  
I set down the book I was reading and looked out the window at the lovely day outside. It was a tattered book, one I found on the street, but it was written recently. It was about a servant falling in love with a prince and losing a slipper at a ball or something like that. I loved those kinds of books.  
  
"Zoi!" Mildred harshly called up into the attic. "Get down here! We need breakfast!"  
  
I pushed myself off my small bed and bumped my head on the ceiling. "Ouch!" I muttered, rubbing my head tenderly.  
  
"Hurry, child!" Mildred yelled again. "We're hungry!"  
  
"Coming!" I hollered back, and I hopped down the stairs. I got to the bottom to see four angry faces staring at me.  
  
Mildred was sitting at a chair at the table, but when I entered, she rose. It didn't make much difference anyway, seeing as she was so short and squatty. She had dirty blond hair that was always everywhere about her head, a tangled mess. Her murky brown eyes were quite often in slits, glaring at me. She was pouting at the moment. "Zoi, you don't want my three darlings to go hungry, do you?"  
  
I looked around. Gracie, the twelve-year-old replica of her mother, was standing by the sink, gazing out the window. Mary and Betsy, her indentical twin sisters who had brown curly hair and dark green, were sitting on the floor playing a hand game. They were ten years old.  
  
"I'm sorry, but I slept late," I said, twirling my pinky nervously around my curly red hair.  
  
Gracie scoffed and turned from the window. "Slept late?" she scolded. "You were probably up reading for hours before mother called you."  
  
Mildred pursed her lips. "When I took you in fourteen years ago, I never thought you would be this much trouble. My sister was dying and it was her wish that I raise you as my own." I mouthed these words as she said them, having heard them numerous times before. "Listen to me, child! I have raised you as my own as best as I could," she said proudly.  
  
"You have not!" I said. "You make me work, and your little brats do nothing to help!"  
  
She slapped me. "I have raised you as my daughter, I just gave you a little more discipline than Gracie, Mary, and Betsy, that's all. Understood?"  
  
I nodded curtly, then strode across the kitchen and began prepare some porridge. Gracie was laughing evilly at me as I did so.  
  
Fourteen years ago, my mother died of childbirth, and my father was executed for treason to the kingdom. For that, Mildred and her kin have hated King Char and Queen Ella. I do to, because if they hadn't killed him, I wouldn't be living with Mildred. My mother gave me to Mildred and begged her to keep me.  
  
I have suffered fourteen years of Mildred's beating and commands, twelve years of Gracie's tauntings and scoldings, ten years of Betsy and Mary's annoyances and teasings. All this because of the wretched king and queen and their brat children: Sampson, Charles, and Summer.  
  
I have never met the king and queen, although I have seen Samson and Charles in the streets when I was with Mildred. Mildred threw a rotten apple at them, and they laughed it off, forgiving her. How DARE they forgive her, when they should have been furious. Mildred has thrown rotten things at them countless times, though she did it secretly most times. I wanted to, but she wouldn't let me.  
  
Only part of the royalty I have met. Char's little brother, Leo, and his wife, Mable. They were also in the streets, but it was when I was alone. I approached them, and they stared at me horribly.  
  
"My dear child," Princess Mable had muttered, still staring at my face.  
  
"Is it?" Prince Leo had whispered, coming inches away from me.  
  
"It must be, Leo," Mable had replied. They were still staring at me.  
  
I curtsied. "Your highnesses," I had said, and hurried on. What strange behavior. Did all royalty act that way?  
  
My first and only encounter with royalty was a bad experience. Of course, everything was a bad experience for me. A stable boy down the road had once seeked to sourt me, but Mildred had shooed him away, saying that I was not worth the effort. What horrible manners! Never since then have I been interested in boys, although I should be at my age. I have sworn them off.  
  
But I would soon find that a certain boy was worth breaking my oath.  
  
*****  
  
eh.  
  
just a taster fer ya, there. the second chappie gets good, mark my words. ::giddy-evil laugh:: woah, holy zach.  
  
okay well... uhm... have a good day and please review. 


	2. And So It Begins

****lalalalalala well chapter two came fast, didnt it? i sure hope so. i started it the second after i finished chapter one!! hooway! i just have something to say. i am all against those stories that have NOTHING to do with ella enchanted--just in the same time frame or something. well this MIGHT be that kind of thing right now, but soon enough you will see that it is directly linked to ella. read. please.****  
  
That very afternoon, after the kitchen incident, Mildred sent me to the market on my own. She said that she needed more fruits for her growing young ones, and some pastries for herself. Typical of Mildred: to make her children eat the disgusting healthy things, and save the delicious lard-filled things for herself.  
  
I gathered my shawl and the large basket I used to hold the fruit and set out, wishing I had brought a bonnet to cover my overly-sensitive freckled face. The sun was bright and I was squinting as I made my way to the market. I wistled as I walked, passing my hand over the trees on the side of the road and waving to happy people that I didn't even know.  
  
The market square was a very crowded place until dusk. By day, it was covered in stalls selling various wares and hasty people rushing to and fro. By night it was empty but for a few pieces of cloth or food on the ground. Many a friendly swordfight happened out there, striking back and forth between the fountain on one end and the towering monastery on the other.  
  
"Good mornin', miss!" someone called to me, holding out a long silver necklace. "Care for some jewelry?"  
  
"No, thank you," I said, approaching the man that had called out to me. "I haven't enough money."  
  
The man stroked his pointy gray beard and surveyed me. "We can strike a bargain, young lady," he said. "You seem trustworthy." He leaned across his wares and looked me in the eye. "You can have one of these lovely necklaces--if you promise to say that you got it from me, Figaro."  
  
I stroked a delicate necklace that was composed of a thin silver chain and a single fragile flower at the end.  
  
"Ah," said Figaro. "That one was made by the fairies. A good friend of mine gave that to me, saying for me to give it to one of my own daughters." He let out a jolly laugh. "Of course, I have none, so I shall give it to you." He slipped it over my head. "It matched your beauty, lady," he said.  
  
"Thank you, Figaro," I said. "I shall tell anyone I meet!" I rushed away, keeping one finger on the flower. I feared it would break if it bounced at all.  
  
I stopped at a fruit stand and bought plenty of the foods, making sure to get Gracie's least favorite: oranges. I then proceeded to my favorite pastry stand and bought a few croissants and bagels for Mildred. All this I put in my basket, then I carried my basket over my arm and turned to head home.  
  
WHAM!  
  
Apples, oranges, croissants, bagles, bananas all flew across the ground.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, miss!" a man said, getting to his hands and knees to pick up the food before it was ruined by the passing crowd. I followed suite, nearly getting my hand squished before it was all done. The pastries were dirty, the fruit was bruised, and my necklace was missing.  
  
I rose and pushed my hair from my face. I looked all over the ground for my necklace, hoping that it wasn't crushed. It came into view a moment later, in the hand of the man that had knocked me over.  
  
I took the necklace gently, brushing my hand against his hand. It was warm and soft, showing his youth. Looking up, I saw that it was Prince Sampson. My jaw dropped and I curtsied. "Your highness!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Oh, please," he said, and he rolled his eyes. He looked rather nice, with lovely brown eyes and hair, and a few freckles across his nose. He seemed at least three years my senior. "Do not cursty, miss."  
  
I stood up straight and looked him in those gorgeous eyes of his. It was a pity I hated him so. We seemed locked in a gaze for a moment, then I shook myself out of it and placed the necklace in my apron pocket, being careful to look at the ground. I turned to go, but he grabbed my arm, nearly sending the food flying again.  
  
"Please," he said, "let me buy you more food."  
  
"Do not bother yourself, highness," I said, but he held onto my arm. I was amazed at his strength.  
  
"It would not be a bother for me to do so."  
  
I nodded, smiling slightly, and followed him back to the food stands. As he was buying fruit for me, he said, "May I inquire your name, miss?"  
  
"Zoi," I said.  
  
He gave me an odd look and nearly dropped an orange he had in his hand. He swallowed hard, put the orange in my basket, and said, "What a lovely name."  
  
"Thank you, Prince Sampson," I replied, irked at his reaction to my name.  
  
"Oh, just call me Sam. Everyone does."  
  
"Thank you, Sam, then," I said, smiling at him. He grinned back, and blushed profusely.  
  
We bought pastries in silence. Afterwards, I turned to him and said, "Thank you, Sam, for buying me my food. I must go now."  
  
"Let me accompany you, then, Zoi," he said desperately.  
  
I thought of Mildred's reaction if I walked up the front path, strolling alongside the prince, the son of her dearest enemy. I nearly laughed. I thought of the kind of lashings I would receive afterwards, and nearly cried. "No, Sam," I said sadly. "Thank you for your kindness, but no." And with that, I turned and walked briskly away, trying to keep myself from rushing back to him and BEGGING him to come with me.  
  
On the way home, though, I suspected that a little boy was following me.  
  
*********  
  
ohh-ho! never thought THAT would come, didja? hehehehehehehe woo little tipsy. okay well i know that was short, but at least it was longer than chappie one. methinks. okay meknows. methinks. oh well.  
  
have a GREAT day.  
  
review. please. thank you. konitchiwa. 


	3. Feeding the Chickens

******k, i know some of you are confused on the manner of sparks flying (sorta, i guess) between sam and zoi. someone said that i said in where would i hide without the mask that sam married areida's daughter. very very good question, indeed! i might have made a mistake, and i might not have. close close readers of the first two chapters and of the summary of the story will suspect something that i have not told you yet! you will see!***  
  
The little boy that had followed me home from the market was not three feet behind me by the time I reached home. I turned to him and he shrunk back.  
  
"I won't hurt you, child," I said quietly. "Why are you following me?"  
  
The child reluctantly said in a high pitched voice, "The prince back at the square gave me a KC to follow you."  
  
My jaw dropped slightly. Of course he had. "Well you may tell him, young man, that I want nothing to do with him." I placed a rich pastry in his hand and walked down the path to our front door. The poor child looked like he had never eaten anything better than rock-hard bread before then.  
  
I turned the doorknob and entered the kitchen. Mildred was standing there, looking furious, which was usual for her.  
  
"Did you just hand that little streetrat one of my pastries?" she demanded, holding a ladel in her hand. She looked menacing.  
  
"Yes, I'm sorry," I said quietly, staring at the floor.  
  
"That means no lunch or dinner for you. Go feed the chickens, Zoi." She turned to the stove and stirred a pot of who-knows-what while I walked through the kitchen, into the den, and out the back door. That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  
  
I picked up a pail of chicken feed by the backdoor and looked out at the small yard. It had enough room for chickens, some pigs, a wee barn that was more like a shed, and a small space for Mary and Betsy to play.  
  
The chickens were pecking at each other when I approached them. I pulled a fistfull of feed out of the pail and spread it across the ground. They ceased and came rushing at the food, pecking away madly. I crossed to the other side and did the same thing. Half the chickens came my way.  
  
"Zoi!" screeched Mildred horribly. "I'm taking Betsy, Mary, and Gracie to go calling! Feed the pigs and don't cause trouble!"  
  
"All right!" I called back, dumping some more feed on the chickens. I placed the pail by the door again and heard Mildred leave. "Evil," I mumbled. I went into the shed and prepared some slop for them. I was supposed to take the leftover food from dinner every night and save it for slop. It took me about a quarter of an hour to mix it all together.  
  
When I emerged from the barn, the prince was standing there, leaning on the fence and looking utterly wonderful. "Good afternoon," he said.  
  
"Your highness!" I exclaimed, sweeping a clumsy curtsy.  
  
"Have I not already told you to call me Sam?" he said, laughing. He looked into the pail I was holding. "Ah, I see you are feeding the pigs. May I assist you?" Without waiting for reply, he took it from me and dumped it into the pig pen.  
  
"Your highness," I said, "I mean Sam, you shouldn't be here!"  
  
"And why not?" he asked, handing the pail back to me. "I have every right to, do I not?"  
  
"No, it's just that if Mildred found out--"  
  
"Oh, I just saw your mother leave with three little girls," he said, looking amused.  
  
"She's not my mother!" I said, taken aback. "She is my aunt. She brought me up when my mother died." I looked at the dirty pail in my hands. "She has thrown a rotten apple at you before," I said quietly.  
  
"Oh was that her?" he said, laughing. "I must admit, she is the only one that has ever thrown an apple at me." Looking at my face, he grew quiet. "What happened to your mother?"  
  
"She died of childbirth," I said sadly, "with me."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Sam. There was a silence, then, "How old are you?"  
  
"Nearly fifteen," I replied, trying to lighten things up.  
  
"Ah!" exclaimed the prince. "I am Seventeen, myself."  
  
I then realized that I was having a conversation with my dearest enemy. "May I ask you to leave?" I said quietly to him.  
  
"May I ask if I can stay?" he replied swiftly.  
  
"Please, Sam," I said firmly. "Leave."  
  
He looked sadly at me and left.  
  
That night I wrote the following in my diary:  
  
Dear diary,  
  
Today Prince Samuel came to me and would not leave. I hate him, and he would not leave. I think I hate him. I mean, of course I do, but why was I thinking such things like how wonderful he looks and how nice he is? Oh well. I will never see him again, that's guarenteed. I will never go to the palace, and he will never come here. He probably dislikes me enough now.  
  
When Mildred came home, she asked me if the prince had been here. I asked her why she thought that and she said that it was because she had seen him walking in the opposite direction than her, close to our house. Of course I said no. If I had said yes I would have been beaten half to death.  
  
Gracie was extremely annoying today. The reason: the king and queen are holding another ball, and now she is old enough to go. I go every time, but only because Mildred forces me to. She says that if I don't go, the neighbors will think that something has happened to me. Neither I nor Gracie are allowed to get close to the royal family, but we must watch them closely and report everything they do back to Mildred.  
  
This time I really do not want to go. Prince Sampson will see me and begin to talk to me again. Ugh. Goodnight, diary.  
  
*****  
  
poo. poo poo poo.  
  
i hope that was longer and better and yah. just gooder (is that a word?) in general!! any comments? questions? review!!!!  
  
have a good day. 


	4. The Dress

***hey, all!!! okay okay okay!!! note: i know his name is sampson. and maybe i misspelled his name in my other story (where would i hide without the mask) but you gotta give me credit for trying! hehe. and i did call him samuel in zoi's diary, but thats cuz my brothers name is samuel and he was in the room when i was typing it so thats what i thought. forgive me. his name is sampson (spelled with a p, too!) and i will try to keep it that way. thank you all for pointing that out, but please if i make a spelling mistake, dont tell me unless youre telling me something else too. so yah. and i own all the characters thus far besides those that come from the book (and theres only like 3 so far so yah.. hehe) read! have a good day.**********  
  
We were preparing for the ball. It was the same old thing to me, as I had been to the past two balls (one is held every year in springtime, and only people who are at least twelve can go), but for Gracie it was new. She squealed in delight as we shopped for dresses in the village.  
  
"Oh, look!" she exclaimed, seizing a dreadful brown one. "It's beautiful! Can we get this one, mother?" she asked Mildred.  
  
Mildred wrinkled her nose in disgust and took the dress from her. "No, I don't think so, dear," she said. "But how about this one?" She held up a pea green dress that looked big enough to fit a cow.  
  
The tailor was excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet behind us. He always loved it when it became time for a ball. Everyone was buying new gowns and such. Everyone but me. I wore the exact same gown every year, and it was hideous. It used to be dark blue when it was Mildred's, but it had faded to grayish baby blue over the years. It had huge puffs everywhere and made me look like a puffed up bullfrog.  
  
"We'll take the lovely green one," said Mildred, baring her teeth in what was supposed to be a smile at the tailor. The tailor nodded immediately and bustled around, getting wrapping for it.  
  
"Will you be attending, madam?" he asked Mildred.  
  
"Oh, no, I'm entirely too old," said Mildred coldly.  
  
"Will the young miss?" asked the tailor.  
  
"Yes, she will," replied Mildred. "But she's already got a gown."  
  
I clenched my fists and shut my eyes. Yes, I have a gown. A gown that looks as if it came from the ninth century.  
  
"Ah," said the tailor quietly. I looked up at him. He looked pitifully at me. "Well, thank you for buying this gown. It will look lovely on your daughter, madam."  
  
"You're welcome," said Mildred curtly, sweeping out of the room. "Come, Gracie."  
  
I lingered behind, partly to admire a wonderful dress that was hanging in the window, and partly because the tailor was looking at me intently. The gown in the window was beautiful and white, following the latest fashions. I stared at it for a moment before the tailor came up behind me.  
  
"That is the queen's wedding gown," he said reverently. I backed away immediately from that wretched gown. "Whoever marries the prince is supposed to wear it when they do." I turned to him. "Some say that this ball is for the prince to find a bride, but the king and queen will not let us know if it is or not."  
  
"Thank you," said I, "for that bit of information. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go."  
  
"Oh, but wait!" said the tailor, grabbing my arm. "You need a gown."  
  
"Like Mildred said, I already have one." I removed his hand from my arm. "Good day."  
  
"It seems to me like you need a better one than the one you have," said the tailor wisely. "I'll get one for you."  
  
"I've no money," I called to him as he headed to his back room.  
  
"You need no money!" he answered. "I have a feeling in my bones that you need this gown more than I need money!"  
  
"What?" I asked as he came back in holding a bundle of fabric.  
  
He leaned close to me. "If you become queen someday, I know you'll pay me back." He winked and handed the bundle to me. "Go ahead and unfold it."  
  
I "unfolded" it. It was beautiful. It was royal blue (a fitting color for a royal ball) and had beautiful long sleeves that flared out at the end. I loved it and admired the intricate flowers embroidered on the skirt.  
  
"It's beautiful," I breathed.  
  
"It was made by the fairies," the tailor said proudly.  
  
"Are you sure you want to give this to me?" I said, hugging the dress.  
  
"You will pay me back one day," he repeated. "I know it. Now get along, the madam will be wondering where you are!"  
  
I ran along the street, clutching the refolded dress to my chest and looking for Mildred and Gracie. A light drizzle of rain was coming down, and I was sacrificing myself for the sake of the dress.  
  
"There you are, child!" said Mildred, reaching out to me. "Come, come, hurry, hurry! We must be getting home! I don't want Gracie to catch a cold! The ball is in five days!"  
  
"Sorry, Mildred."  
  
"What's that you've got there?" Mildred made to grab the dress, but I pulled it out of her reach.  
  
"A gown," I said automatically.  
  
"Did you steal it?" Mildred roared. "If you did, Zoi, I will beat you so hard you will not be able to eat for a month, let alone attend the ball."  
  
"I didn't steal it!" I said as we hurried along. "The tailor gave it to me. He said I can pay him back one day."  
  
"Then you WILL pay him back," she said, "when you are out of my house."  
  
"May I wear it to the ball?" I asked. We were seeing less and less houses as we exited the village and drew nearer to our house. The rain was slowing down.  
  
"I suppose, if you're good." Mildred sighed. I smiled inside.  
  
********  
  
lalalalala yes i know short chappie but of course i didnt want to start whole new subject in the same chapter. one of these days i will do another 2-in-1 chapter like i did in my last story. except it was kinda demented. oh well. life is unfair, isnt it??  
  
well i have to go now. got a performance i have to get to. have a nice day.  
  
REVIEW!!! please. 


	5. The Stranger Who Made Mildred Weep

****lalala okay thanks to all who reviewed. GOLD STAR ON YOUR FOREHEAD! if you have any questions, email me, not review. cuz you wont get them answered for a while if you review. :D well anywho. read. yah.******  
  
It was the day after I got the dress, and the ball was in four days. Gracie was driving me insane with her twittering-on about the prince. One saturday morning, she even woke me up with a question about him. I had been reading the book about the girl that fell in love with the prince at the ball, and it had kept me up late the previous night. She woke me up before the sun had peeked out above the mountains, only to know the prince's favorite color.  
  
"I don't know," I said bitterly at her. "I don't even know the prince."  
  
"Yes you do," Gracie said in a sing-song voice, dancing around on my bed. She was ducking as to avoid hitting her head on the low ceiling, and she was looking straight at me with an awful smirk on her face. "My friend Milly said she saw you walking with him the other day at the market!" She then stuck out her tongue and fled from the room.  
  
I rolled my eyes. Whether or not her friend had seen me with the prince didn't make a difference. Unless Gracie told Mildred. I groaned. Gracie, with her immature blabber-mouth, would ruin me. I would get a beating so severe I would ache for weeks.  
  
Despite the niceness Mildred shows most of the time when we're in public, she is evil deep down inside. I know this because plenty a time I have come across her journal when I was cleaning and inside where horrible thoughts I don't ever want to repeat. She beats me a lot, too. I have disgusting scars on my back where she used a whip on me a few years ago. She doesn't use whips anymore, though.  
  
I went downstairs to find Betsy and Mary running around the kitchen, squealing madly. The words they were screaming were impossible to understand, as they always were.  
  
One of them stopped, and the other followed suite. The one that had stopped said to me, "Momma is mad." (which I worked out from 14 years of experience with their odd language)  
  
"Why?" I demanded.  
  
The other one (I think it was Betsy) said, "She's in back."  
  
"Talking to an angry man!" said Mary.  
  
"Who?" I said.  
  
The twins shrugged their identical shoulders and began running around the room, squealing uncontrollably again.  
  
I crossed the kitchen and looked out the den window. Indeed, Mildred was talking to a tall, rough-looking man, looking defensive. As I watched, she shook her finger in his face and glared at him. In return he pushed her and she fell.  
  
"Ha ha!" I whispered triumphantly. "Take that, you wench!"  
  
The man then approached the house and entered through the back door with Mildred close at his heels.  
  
"What is your name?" he directed his question at me.  
  
"Zoi, sir," I said, curtsying.  
  
"Zoi, is this your aunt?" he asked loudly, drawing the attention of the whole household (composed simply of Mary, Betsy, and Gracie).  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Did your mother die of childbirth to you?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, sir," I replied, wondering what all these questions meant.  
  
"How do you know this, Zoi?" he asked.  
  
"Well," I said quietly, "Mildred told me."  
  
"When?"  
  
"I can't remember. I just remember growing up knowing that my mother was dead and my father was executed."  
  
"What was your father's name?" asked the man.  
  
I looked at Mildred. "I-I don't know, Sir." I had never thought to ask, for some strange reason.  
  
"His name was Jacque," said Mildred, trembling for the first time.  
  
"I will take this information to the king, Madam," said the man. He looked at me again. "Were you or were you not with Prince Sampson last week?" he asked.  
  
Oh, no. The very question I feared. If I said yes, he would leave me alone, but Mildred would give me more painful scars for being with royalty. If I said no, he would most likely continue pestering me and Mildred would give me more painful scars for not shooing him away. I felt this man was a royal guard, and I should tell him the truth.  
  
"I was," said I, "for not very long. I met him in the square."  
  
"Ah," said the man. He seemed to be taking mental notes. "I see. I take my leave." And without further ado, the man exited out the back door.  
  
"He was very rude," I heard Gracie say from behind me.  
  
Mildred was livid. Shaking horribly, but still livid. "You were with the prince?" she said slowly. "You were with royalty and you did not tell me!"  
  
"He knocked me over and sent all the food rolling! I had no choice but to meet him."  
  
"You did not tell me!" Mildred screamed. "That makes you a liar!"  
  
"NO!" I said. "NO, i just forgot!"  
  
"LIAR!" Mildred screeched, and I backed up. She advanced and grasped my ear. "Did you tell him your name?!" she demanded. I didn't answer. "TELL ME!" she screamed in my ear. "DID YOU?"  
  
"Yes," I gasped.  
  
"FOOL!" she exclaimed, striking me harder than she had ever across my face. "NOW HE KNOWS WHO YOU ARE AND WHERE YOU LIVE!" She slapped me again. "THEY WILL COME FOR ME!" she began to sob. "They will come for me and take me away!" She sank to the floor, still weeping. "I will go away. They will come for me and take me away!" She continued to repeat this sentence over and over again, sobbing and rocking back and forth on the floor.  
  
Silently, her three daughters and I left the room.  
  
*******  
  
ahhh!!! shes insane!! RUN AWAY!!! hehe anyway. yeah it may seem like my story is getting a little... extreme here. but thats why its rated pg! (well at lease i think it is!) erg... uhm well i think that might be the worst you read. even though that wasnt bad. itll explain itself in time. MEANWHILE--have a great day!  
  
review, please. thanks so much. 


	6. Switching Dresses

***tra-la-la. i am laughing SO hard at all 2 or 3 of the people who reviewed on this story and my other one saying "whats the point of it?" well ill tell you. the point is to have fun writing and to get reviews. there. "what kind of a name is zoi? what kind of a name is sampson?" hmm. theyre unique names. sooo yah... bad reviews dont get me down so tell me what you think, good or bad!****  
  
The stranger that had come to our home did not return for many days. Mildred was in the same mood: walking about the house, wringing her hands, weeping, and saying something about them taking her away.  
  
Gracie, Mary, Betsy, and I formed a sort of union. We didnt quarrel all that time. We didnt even barely speak. The house was silent except for Mildred.  
  
The day of the ball arrived, and Mildred was finally silent. Gracie showed the first sign of compassion she had ever showed and put her arms around her mother.  
  
"What is the matter, Mama?" she asked quietly.  
  
"NOTHING IS THE MATTER!" screeched Mildred, shoving Gracie off her. "I'M NOT CRYING, SEE? WHY DO YOU THINK ANYTHING IS THE MATTER?"  
  
"You stopped crying is all," said Gracie.  
  
"Well, maybe I decided that my daughter needs to be prepared for the ball this evening." Mildred began cleaning the kitchen, although I had cleaned it just half an hour before. "Zoi!" she snapped suddenly, and the four of us children jumped. "Go get Gracie ready. NOW!"  
  
"Yes, Mildred," I said quietly.  
  
Gracie was excited, bouncing out of the kitchen and all over the place. To her, Mildred was back to normal, yelling at everyone, and that was good. She ran up to her room and bounced on her bed. "Get my dress!" she sang over and over again.  
  
I pulled her disgusting dress out of the wardrobe and held it up to her.  
  
"Put it on me!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Get off the bed," I said horribly, "and I will." I had been in the worst temper the last few days, wondering what the man wanted and angry at Mildred. I never let it out. I never even spoke. But now was my time.  
  
Gracie leaped off the bed and landed in front of me. While I undid the dress she was wearing, she sang just to pester me.  
  
"Mama will be mad," she sang, "if she finds out you were mean to me! Mama will slap you again, and you won't go to the ball!"  
  
"Gracie, be quiet," I snapped.  
  
She blew a raspberry at me with her tongue, then began jumping on the bed in her undergarments, singing the same song.  
  
"Fine!" I said, violently throwing her gown on the bed (she landed on it and wrinkled it). "I'm not going to help you get dressed. You have to hands. You can do it yourself.  
  
Gracie started to scream and pretend to cry, although she continued jumping up and down on the gown. "MOMMA!! ZOI WRINKLED MY DRESS!"  
  
I folded my arms and stared at her. "I did NOT wrinkle your dress!"  
  
Just then, Mildred entered the room in a terrible rage. "What happened to the dress?"  
  
Gracie was still jumping on it, a stupid thing to do when she was saying that I had wrinkled it. Mildred siezed the dress and pulled just as Gracie landed on it, causing Gracie to fly back and hit the wall, which really made her cry.  
  
"YOU were the one wrinkling it, you foolish, foolish child!" Mildred scolded, attempting to keep her voice down. "I will not raise liars for children."  
  
She turned on me. "And as for YOU, girl!" she said, advancing quickly. "You will wear her dress, and she will wear yours." Gracie stopped crying.  
  
I was horrified. I would go to the ball in front of all of Frell dressed in a disgusting pea-green dress that was so wrinkled it looked like it had been chewed up by a cow and spit out. Sampson would see me and I would be embarrassed. Wait. Why was I caring what Sampson thought of me? I hated him. Or did I? I just had to keep that in mind: I hated him.  
  
Indeed, I was to wear the gown to the ball. That evening, I donned it and stepped into the kitchen where Gracie was modelling my dress to her mother.  
  
"Oh, it's even more beautiful on you than it would have been on that wretched child!" exclaimed Mildred, even though she knew I had just entered the room.  
  
"I know!" sang Gracie. "She would have ruined it, ruined it, ruined it!"  
  
I clenched my fists and cleared my throat.  
  
Mildred and Gracie turned to me. "Ah," said Mildred. "Finally. You must be off! I want every detail of the royal family, and NO TALKING TO THE PRINCE!" she added in a shriek.  
  
I winced and nodded.  
  
"Gracie, be careful of that dress!" said Mildred. "It's raining out! I don't want it dirty at all so I can sell it on the market when you're finished."  
  
I choked on a sob. What a loss of a beautiful dress.  
  
***********  
  
erg. that chappie wasnt so great.... it was kinda random, you know? hmm i hope thats okay with you people cuz at least you got what was happening!!  
  
very, very soon you will understand what is going on... perhaps next chapter, even! wow!!  
  
have a great day.  
  
review, please. 


	7. The Ball

*********blah. blah blah. blah blah blah. so bored. okay so i was talking to myself the other day and i was like "should i write the next chapter?" and i answered myself, "yes, of COURSE! you silly you!" but then i said "nay, i have no time!" and myself answered and said, "you are so right! what with two play practices every day (two seperate plays), all that homework you have, and that evil cold that is upon you, its no wonder you are waiting 5 or 6 days to write another chapter!" so i procrastinated. until this moment. i am at home for... another hour and a half.... and i decided to grace you all (HOPEFULLY) with my presence. and as i listen to liz phair, i am typing this. enjoy!**********  
  
The ride to the palace could not have been worse. Gracie prattled non-stop about how much she adored the blue dress and how happy it was that I had wrinkled her lovely green one that was inferior to the blue dress. I clenched my right hand while I rapped on the window with my left hand, willing myself not to tear Gracie's voicebox out.  
  
As we drew nearer to the palace, Gracie learned toward me with an eager look on her face. "Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered childishly.  
  
I rolled my eyes and looked out the window at the slight drizzle that was coming down. "Keep your comments to yourself, Gracie," I muttered.  
  
Gracie sat back and folded her arms over her chest. She stuck out her lower lip and glared at me. Then she threw her head back and laughed. "I don't care that you won't listen. I'll tell you anyway."  
  
Oh, please, I thought. Please, please, please! Quiet her! make the carriage go faster or something, just get make her stop talking!  
  
She leaned forward again. "I am going to marry the prince," she said boldly. When I only rolled my eyes at her, she continued talking. "Mama does not know it, and if you tell her, I'll tell you YOU!"  
  
"What's there to tell?" I said offensively.  
  
"I'll tell her about you stealing food from her and sold it to streetrats to make money for this gown I'm wearing," she said snobbishly.  
  
"I didn't do that!" I exclaimed.  
  
Gracie rested in her seat and smirked. "I know," she said quietly. She sat there smirking at me and shaking with laughter, sitting in the dress I had received from the tailor. What made it worse was when she noticed the delicate silver chain that Figaro had gave me back at the market. She then seized it, threatening to break it AND tell Mildred lies if I didn't let her have it.  
  
The rest of the trip was composed of her sitting, smiling evilly, laughing, wearing my dress and necklace (my only two valuable posessions, may I remind you), and telling me how wonderful the ball would be.  
  
The carriage pulled up to the palace and the footman opened the door for us, holding out an umbrella to shelter us from the rain. He walked us to the door, which opened from the inside to reveal hundreds of people (mostly women), waiting for the ball to start.  
  
Gracie scoffed. "These OLDER women think they have a chance for Prince Sampson against ME? HA!"  
  
"Gracie," I said, "I thought your family hated the royal family."  
  
She stuck out her tongue at me right as the hall got very quiet. The reason: Prince Sampson was at the head of the hall, waiting to talk.  
  
"I'm very sorry everyone," he said, and the sound of his voice sent a wonderful tingle down my spine. Why it did that I didn't know. "We will have the ball in the ballroom now. We were just getting ready. If you will follow me..." He then lead us through a side door.  
  
As the enormous crowd followed him, a girl standing near to me began talking to no one in particular. "They say this hall is where the story of the king and queen's love took place," she said as she chewed on her tongue nervously. She was very jumpy. "I think that's a sign that he is going to marry one of us!" Many women around us let out longing sighs.  
  
"Eh, now!" exclaimed the girl chewing her tongue, looking me up and down. "What happened to your dress? It looks 'orrible! Now that girl there," she said, pointing at Gracie, "her dress is the proper dress to wear to a ball for the prince."  
  
I clenched my teeth and nodded. "I agree," I said quietly. "This WAS hers originally, but out of the good of my heart I traded her."  
  
The same girls that had let out longing sighs now let out words of appreciation, such as "Oh, how nice of you!" and so forth. One of them even said, "That's okay. My mother always told me that if he was a prince worth having, he wouldn't care what you wore to the ball."  
  
At that moment, we entered the ballroom. It was spectacular, reaching up to the very heavens, it seemed. The whole room was glittering and sparkling, and the marble floor was shining. The sky outside was full of perfect little stars just waking up from their daily sleep. I was entranced by looking out those huge windows into the heavens.  
  
Gracie shook me. "Come ON, Zoi! You're so stupid, standing there with that stupid look on your face and that stupid dress on!" She was mad at me for lying to the women around us. "The prince is starting a greeting line and I want to be there very first!"  
  
I let her drag me across that heavenly room to where Sampson was waiting, already talking to a group of giggly women. Gracie groaned.  
  
"See?" she whined, stomping her foot. "You made us not first!" She whined the whole time, until we reached Prince Sampson. She then pasted a horrible smile on her face and raised her voice ever so slightly. "Oh, hello, your highness!"  
  
The prince smiled genuinely back, as good as his nature was. "Good evening, Lady..."  
  
"Gracie!" she said quickly. "LADY Gracie, that is. This is my first ball, but I'm sure I'll have plenty more. I don't have a beaux, you know!" She rambled on and on about countless subjects until Prince Sampson said stopped her by telling her to save him a dance. She then took off toward the food table breathing hard.  
  
"Ah," said Prince Sampson happily. "How are you doing, Lady Zoi?" he asked. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me! Why are you here?"  
  
"My aunt wanted me to come," I said, curtsying politely.  
  
"How nice," he said falsely. "I was hoping you would have come for more reason than your aunt, though, Zoi."  
  
"Such as..?" I said, although I knew the answer.  
  
"Such as me, seeing as we're old friends," he replied, kissing my hand. "And now, I must see my other guests, as I am the only host here at the moment."  
  
"What about your--er--mother and father?" I asked, walking away slow enough to give him time to reply.  
  
"They are delayed by the rain. They were out visiting our friends--Areida and Will--and..." He gave me a peculiar look. "Well, anyway, they will be here later tonight."  
  
"Thank you, Sam," I said. "I guess I will see you around the ball."  
  
"Save me a dance, Zoi," he called back.  
  
I nodded and turned around, nearly running into Gracie, who was glaring at me with one hand on her hip and one hand holding a plate loaded with sweets. "Speaking so casually to the prince, Zoi? You shouldn't do that. I'll tell mother."  
  
"Oh, please," I said, too happy to care for her. Why was I happy. "Leave me alone right now, Gracie. I'm going to dance."  
  
**************  
  
sigh.  
  
wow that one was long!!! i said i had an hour and half left? well now i only have 15 minutes left! i should be proud of myself.  
  
i hope you enjoyed that one. PLEASE review!!  
  
ta.  
  
have a great day. 


	8. An Explaination

************sigh. thursdays are horrible. poo. and today is thursday. for me, anywho. ITS MY HALF BIRTHDAY!! hooway. im so happy. anyway. the ella enchanted movie comes out in... like...... a month and 5 days. im going to see it but i dont think they should call it ella enchanted since i think they changed the plot. anywho. so um my neck hurts. lets get this over with, shall we? read.**********  
  
Despite my horribly disgusting dress, I danced with three men before nine o' clock. I was very tired then, and sat down against the far wall to rest. Gracie, who was sitting a few seats over, had not danced with a single gentleman. I secretly laughed inside and moved to sit by her.  
  
"Haven't danced with anyone, have you, Gracie?" I said, attempting friendliness.  
  
"No," she said sourly, her arms folded across her chest.  
  
At that moment, the vast doors to the ballroom opened, and trumpets sounded throughout the room. A squire called for silence and begun his announcement.  
  
"Their majesties, King Charmont and Queen Ella," he called out. Everyone bowed or curtsied as the king and queen, who looked very kindly, swept across the room to their son and hugged him, with their children, Charles and Summer. Following the royal family was a couple, holding hands and looking delighted at the crowd.  
  
The squire looked nervously around, obviously wondering whether or not he should introduce the couple, as they apparantly were friends with the king and queen. Finally, the squire made up his mind and said in a loud voice, "Lord William and Lady Areida."  
  
The moment William and Areida reached Sam, the music started up again and the dancing resumed. I straightened in my chair a little and looked for someone to dance with. I didn't have to look long, for Sampson came to me at once and insisted I meet his parents.  
  
"Oh, I don't think--" I said. I was going to say that I didn't want to meed them, but Sampson cut me off.  
  
"They'll LOVE you, Zoi!" he said, leading me to where Charmont, Ella, Charles, Summer, Areida, and William were standing. Ella had a kind face and was smiling sweetly at me as I approached, which didn't make her seem all that bad. Charmont was laughing, which didn't make him seem all that bad, either.  
  
"And who's this?" asked Ella, who was the only one facing me when I curtsied.  
  
"This is my new friend Zoi," said Sam. "I met her at the market a few days ago."  
  
Summer came up behind her mother and looked me up and down. "Your dress is hideous," she said plainly.  
  
"Summer!" exclaimed Ella, hitting her daughter on the shoulder lightly. "You shouldn't say such things! Apologize to this young lady."  
  
"Sorry," said Summer, who was about Gracie's age. Maybe even younger, such as ten years old.  
  
"I know it's hideous," I whispered to her. "It's my cousin's, but I traded her since it's her first ball."  
  
Summer giggled. "How nice of you, Zoi," she whispered back.  
  
I turned to Charmont, Charles, Areida, and William and curtsied. "Good evening," I said. "I'm Zoi."  
  
"So we heard," said Charles, who must have been my age. He had a bad attitude, though. "I'm Charles," he replied, remembering his manners without his father hitting him. "Nice to meet you."  
  
Charmont bowed and introduced himself as well. When I looked at the other two and prepared to curtsy to them, they just stared at me with their mouths open.  
  
"Good evening," I said to them, and curtsied anyway. "How do you do?"  
  
Areida mouthed something and gave a shadow of a curtsy, but William did nothing but stand and stare. "You look just like her," he whispered.  
  
"Pardon?" I said, rising from my curtsy. "Like who, Lord William?"  
  
Charmont, Ella, Sampson, Charles, and Summer all gathered around William and looked straight at me. It was the most ackward situation I had ever been in.  
  
"You're right, Will," said Ella. "She DOES. Except the hair. The hair doesn't look like her."  
  
Sam must have sensed my uncomfortableness, because he seized my arm and announced that I had saved him a dance all night. When we were out on the dance floor, I let out a breath of relief.  
  
"THANK you!" I exclaimed to Sam. "I hate it when people do that!"  
  
"Do people do that to you often?" asked Sam quietly, still staring at me.  
  
"Oh, not often. They just say I look familiar. Like your aunt and uncle. They come up to me in the street and said I was someone... I can't remember." I sighed.  
  
"Well, we have a good reason to stare at you and say you look familiar," Said Sam. When I gave him an inquiring look, he replied, "You see, when I was very little, maybe just one year old, Areida and Will, who are close friends of my parents, had a baby girl. She got kidnaped about a month or two later by a man. The guards caught the man, but he no longer had the baby girl. He said he would never tell where she was, and so they executed him for kidnaping and many other things that he had done." Sam sighed and pulled me a little closer in the slow dance. "You look so much like Areida, and your name is almost the same as her daughter's, that we have good reason to stare at you. Her daughter's name was Cloi."  
  
"Oh," I said quietly, taking it all in slowly. "So you think that I am Areida's daughter because I look alike and my name sounds the same?"  
  
Sam nodded.  
  
"So what if our names sound the same?" I said, offended for some reason. "It wouldn't make a difference if the kidnaper had named Areida's child MILDRED!" I exclaimed, thinking of the first name that had come to mind. "I'm sure there are plenty of other Zoi's in the kingdom who have the same color eyes as Areida!"  
  
"Oh, please don't be mad!" said Sampson sweetly. "I don't want you to be mad at me." He pulled me even closer. "I don't want you to be mad at me at all. Ever."  
  
I calmed down. Somehow I had lost all my anger. I had no idea why, though I suspected it to be because Sam had pulled me closer. But that couldn't be it! I didn't even LIKE him, let alone consider him a beaux....  
  
Did I?  
  
********  
  
tee hee. :D now you know... now you know... or at least: now you suspect... now you suspect.... haha i hope you enjoyed that chappie as much as i did. i had a really bad day and this cheered me up somewhat.  
  
sigh.  
  
please review. i would feel oh-so-much better to hear your criticism and/or praises!  
  
have a great day. 


	9. Sending Mildred AwayFINALLY!

****sigh. been sooo fricken busy its not even funny! i had 2 different play practices (for 2 different plays, mind you) practically every day after school till like... 7... and then i had this HUGE 500 page book thats really old and boring and it uses big words to its hard to read and then i had like... other... stuff... my head hurts... anywho i dont own ella or char or... uhm... areida... or any of the other peoples you recognize from the book... but everyone else is MINE! MINE, I SAY! BACK OFF! hehe read******  
  
After I danced with Sam, we headed back over to where his family was. The king and queen had taken up dancing for themselves and the other children were off frolicking about, so it was just us and Areida and William. We sat down on a row of chairs so that it was this order: William, Areida, Me, and Sampson.  
  
An uncomfortable silence followed our seating, and I was eager to break it. I stammered for a second, wondering what to say, then ended up saying the wrong thing. "I heard about your baby girl, Areida," I said, pinching myself a moment or two later. "I am so very sorry."  
  
"Thank you, Zoi," said Areida quietly. "I trust that Sam here explained our odd mannerisms to you," she added with a smile, perhaps trying to cheer herself up.  
  
I blushed and nodded.  
  
"Please forgive us," requested William, leaning over his wife. "But it WAS a hard loss for us, and you DO remind us strongly of her."  
  
At that moment something clicked in my mind. A man had kidnaped Cloi, but didn't have her when they captured him. They executed him for kidnaping AND other things he had done... Perhaps including... Treason to the kingdom? Like my father had been?  
  
"Zoi! Zoi!" exclaimed Gracie, rushing up to me, her face shining with tears and her chest heaving. "They've got momma! It's all your fault!"  
  
"What?" I said, following her and trying to remain calm. She led me out of the ballroom and into the main hall, where Mildred was being dragged in by a few guards.  
  
"What's going on?" said Sam from behind me. "What are you doing with that woman?" Areida and William, plus the king and queen, had followed us, gathering around the commotion.  
  
"Beg pardon," said one of the guards--a rather large, beefy man--to King Charmont and Queen Ella. "This woman 'as posession of a kidnaped child, milord."  
  
"Zoi?" said Sam.  
  
"Who told you this?" asked King Charmont.  
  
"One of the guards, who went and inspected the situation his'self," said the other guard. "This 'ere young madam is supposed to be Lady Clarissa."  
  
"Clarissa?" I whispered, turning to Sam.  
  
"Cloi for short," he whispered back.  
  
"I DIDN'T KIDNAP ANYONE," screeched Mildred. "AND THAT'S NOT ANY LADY--THAT'S MY DEAD BROTHER'S DAUGHTER!"  
  
"Yes, yes, we know," said the beefy guard. "The man who went to your 'ouse told us so, lady. But you still have a kidnaped child, you know."  
  
"I don't think she should be punished for that," said Charmont, coming forward. "Even if this IS Lady Clarissa, which we have no way of proving."  
  
"There-there might be a way," said William.  
  
"What would that be, Will?" asked Charmont.  
  
Areida blushed violently. "A birthmark. She would have a birthmark in a certain place."  
  
I felt the blood draining from my face. Oh, no. Not in front of all these people. I had a large birthmark on my lower back. I mean my lower LOWER back.  
  
"And what place would this be?" asked Char calmly.  
  
"Her back," said Areida.  
  
"Do you have a birthmark on your back, Zoi?" asked Sam.  
  
I nodded slowly. "I don't want to show it, though."  
  
"THAT DOESN'T PROVE ANYTHING!" Mildred screamed at King Charmont. "THAT LADY COULD HAVE JUST SEEN MY BROTHER'S DAUGHTER!"  
  
"Let her go," said Charmont. "She's done nothing wrong."  
  
The guards released Mildred at once, and she fell to the floor, looking pathetic. She rose to her feet and brushed off the front of her dress, glaring at everyone one. "Come, Gracie. Zoi," she said.  
  
I started to walk forward, but Charmont grabbed my elbow.  
  
"I'm afraid she won't be going anywhere, madam," he said, continuing in his calm state. "She will stay here, where she will show Areida her birthmark"--I blushed--"and tell us all she can about this matter."  
  
I looked up at him.  
  
"That is, if she wants to," he said, smiling good-naturedly at me.  
  
I nodded.  
  
Mildred adjusted her dress and seized Gracie's shoulder. "Fine. Come, Gracie. We're going." And with that, she walked out the door.  
  
"Well," said Charmont with a sigh, "it looks like you'll be spending the night here. Let's get you into a room."  
  
*********************  
  
sigh...... that chappie wasnt so good.............  
  
oh well... i tried.........  
  
next chapter will be better. i promise...  
  
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review!! agh!! if no one is reading the story, im just gonna stop writing it...  
  
have a nice day. ta! 


	10. Gettting Acquainted

********no, i did NOT stop writing it, i just took a break. that AND the fact that our  
  
computer crashed and when we got it fixed, the writing program i was using for this story  
  
was completely gone. i hate the new one im using. it bugs the crap outta me. well yeah.  
  
read.*******  
  
  
  
The rain was really coming down as I climbed the stairs after the ball. Lightening  
  
crashed in the distance, illuminating the horizon, and thunder followed it, rattling my  
  
bones. I was following Queen Ella and Lady Areida up the stairs, and they were  
  
whispering constantly, throwing puzzled glances in my direction occasionally. I was  
  
shaking so bad that the candle I was holding was shaking.  
  
Once we got to the top of the stairs, we went down a long hall and down another,  
  
finally stopping at a thin white door halfway down the hall.  
  
"This will be your room for the time being," said Ella, as Areida looked on. "I'll  
  
leave Areida to see your birthmark and to get acquainted with you." With that last  
  
remark, she left.  
  
I cleared my throat. So did Areida.  
  
"So, umm..." I said.  
  
"Shall we go in?" asked Areida, obviously friendly.  
  
"Of course," I said, following her. She lit a few lamps in the room, then set her  
  
candle on the desk. I followed suite.  
  
"Um, Areida?" I said quietly. She turned to me.  
  
"Yes?" she said.  
  
"I really really would rather not show my birthmark, if that's all right with you."  
  
She smiled warmly. "All right. If it's where I think it is, I wouldn't want to  
  
either."  
  
"But you'll tell them, when they ask, that you saw it, right?" I asked.  
  
Areida looked at me for a moment, then said, "Certainly."  
  
"Thanks," I said, relieved. "Do we still have to get acquainted?"  
  
"Only if you want to," she said. She looked like an adult, but seemed like a child  
  
in a way, able to have fun, wanting to break rules and do something wild. She also  
  
seemed like she could see right through me, and understand me somehow. I wanted to  
  
get to know her, wanted to be her daughter, but I was hoping that I was not the result of a  
  
kidnaping. The only way to know would be to get acquainted.  
  
"I guess I want to," I said. Boy would this be uncomfortable: talking with a  
  
woman who was supposedly my mother, a woman who I hadn't ever known, a woman  
  
who seemed willing to help but still scared of getting hurt or something.  
  
"So..." she said to start off, "Did you ever know your father?"  
  
"What?" I said, confused. "But I thought that--"  
  
"That you were kidnaped?" She laughed softly. "Oh, we have no proof of that,  
  
so I just want to know about your family."  
  
"Oh, well then," I said. "No, I never knew my father."  
  
"Did he die before you were born?"  
  
"No, my mother did. Giving birth to me. Supposedly," I added. "My father was  
  
executed when I was little, but I don't remember it."  
  
"Does your aunt ever talk about him?" asked Areida.  
  
"No, she tells me not to talk about my father or my mother."  
  
"Ah," said Areida. We sat in silence for a moment.  
  
"So do you think I'm kidnaped?" I asked her.  
  
"Do you want the truth?" she replied.  
  
"Yes, please," I said.  
  
She faltered, then said, "Yes, I think you were kidnaped. I think you are my  
  
daughter. Well, at least I hope. I've always wanted my Clarissa back."  
  
I stared at her.  
  
"Do you think you were kidnaped, Zoi?" she asked.  
  
I paused also, then "I think so. Yes, I think that I was kidnaped." I searched  
  
my mind for any information of my family and came up with nothing. "I don't know  
  
anything about my real family, so I guess that means you could say that I was kidnaped!"   
  
I beamed at her. "I think that you're my mother, Areida!"  
  
I threw my arms around her and embraced her. We both started crying. At some  
  
point, William entered too and joined the hug. We were all crying with joy.  
  
  
  
  
  
******************  
  
ohhh man that was fricken cheesy. im disappointed in myself. :( besides that, it was  
  
short! grrr bad me! bad me!!!  
  
oh well thats the way life goes, sometimes, isnt it?  
  
hmmm have a nice day and PLEASE REVIEW!! 


	11. Betrothal

*********wow.... havent updated since like 1962.... hmm.... anywho... i've been really busy  
  
with plays and spring break and homework etc. haha i know what youre thinkin "HOW CAN  
  
YOU BE BUSY WITH SPRING BREAK?" well i just have had friends and family coming over  
  
to my house constantly. OH OH OH OH OH I SAW ELLA ENCHANTED! its cute but the  
  
plot is COMPLETELY different! seriously. happy easter everyone. read.***********  
  
Life couldn't get much better living with my newly found mother and father. We lived in a  
  
manor not too far away from the castle. Mildred and her spawn weren't punished at all, but she  
  
was nearly put in an insane asylum for her behavior. She also had to get Gracie and Mary and  
  
Betsy to start doing housework, since I was living the life of leisure with my birth parents and my  
  
new royal friends.  
  
I was curled up on a window seat one sunny day, reading the book about the servant  
  
losing a glass slipper at a royal ball, when Areida—I mean my mother—told me some news that  
  
made me even more happy, which was surprising considering the nature of it.  
  
"Zoi?" she called from the hall outside my room. We had decided to keep the name my  
  
kidnapper had given me, since I was already used to it.  
  
"Come in," I replied, not looking up from my book. Nobility was suiting me—I was  
  
already used to the colorful dresses and petticoats I had to wear and I was already learning the  
  
way I was supposed to talk. The funny was, both my parents came from poor families and had  
  
both run an inn at one point or another. They didn't become nobility until King Charmont—Char,  
  
I mean (he had told me to call him that—knighted Will, my father.  
  
Mother entered my room, beaming as usual, and began speaking in her way. She always  
  
pronounced her j's as y's and other things. "I have something to tell you."  
  
I set my bookmark in my book and looked pointedly at her. She took a seat in a chaise  
  
across from me and took a deep breath. "Good or bad?" I said.  
  
"Good, of course."  
  
"And this news would be..." I said, raising my eyebrows.  
  
"You're betrothed," she said quickly.  
  
I rose to my feet fast, and my book crashed to the floor. I had always hated betrothals.   
  
"BETROTHED?" I shrieked. Mother rose to her feet too. "I CAN'T BE BETROTHED!"  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," she said hurriedly. "I haven't even told you to whom yet!"  
  
"I DON'T CARE WHO IT'S TO, BETROTHING SOMEONE WITHOUT THEIR  
  
PERMISSION IS JUST WRONG----"  
  
"---It's Sampson---"  
  
"---AND IF YOU EXPECT ME TO GO THROUGH WITH IT---"  
  
"—and it was his idea, not mine or Ella's or Char's or Will's---"  
  
"—YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING—What?"  
  
Mother sat back down calmly. "Just what I said, Zoi. We were discussing with Ella and  
  
Char that you should get married soon---"  
  
"I'm only fifteen, Mother!" I said.  
  
"No, you're sixteen."  
  
"I AM?" I said, surprised. I sat back down.  
  
"Anyway," said Mother, continuing on, "Sampson just happened to be in the room and he  
  
was very interested in the subject of your marriage. Once the subject of betrothal came up, he  
  
volunteered for the job."  
  
I blushed, happy that it was Sampson. But wait—WHY? I had always hated him for  
  
being the son of the person that destroyed my family. But that reason was gone! I had a family.   
  
I certainly didn't LOVE him, did I? I didn't even consider him a beau. I changed the subject.   
  
"Why am I sixteen, and not fifteen?" I asked, still blushing.  
  
"The man who kidnaped you lied about your age. Actually, you're closer to seventeen  
  
than sixteen." Mother took a mint out of the dish on my bedside table and munched on it.  
  
"Oh," I said softly. This was too much to take in.  
  
"So do you accept the princes—ahem—proposal?" she asked.  
  
"No!" I said quickly. "I don't even know him!"  
  
"All right," said Mother calmly.  
  
"Is the betrothal off, then?" I demanded.  
  
"If you want it to be," Mother said.  
  
"Of course I want it to be!" I sighed.  
  
My mother nodded and left the room, leaving me to my book and the bright sunlight  
  
pouring in. I looked out the window. Sampson's face stared back at mine. I screeched and leapt  
  
away from the window.  
  
He knocked and motioned for me to open the window. I did so, then backed up again and  
  
sat on my bed. "What are you doing here?" I asked.  
  
"I came to see if you found out about your betrothal," he said, grinning. He shut the  
  
window and sat on the seat.  
  
"You have a knack for showing up at the most unexpected times, Sam," I said.  
  
"I know, isn't it grand?" He laughed. He had become more friendly with me now that I  
  
was officially good friends with him (considering who our families were). "So about that  
  
betrothal... Yes or No?"  
  
I laid down on my bed and groaned. "I don't even know you, Sam!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Hmm," he said. "That may present a problem. Does that mean no?"  
  
"Yes!" I said, sitting up.  
  
"Yes? You mean you'll marry me? I accept!" He seized my hands and pulled me up,  
  
dancing us around the room and whistling the wedding march. I laughed until I couldn't breath,  
  
then protested that it was enough and fell back on the bed.  
  
"No, you fool," I said, still laughing. "Yes it means no!"  
  
"Oh," he said, mocking sadness. "If you ever get to know me well enough, will you marry  
  
me?" he asked.  
  
"I'll think about it," I said as I pushed him to the window. "Goodbye."  
  
He climbed out the window and looked back at me before I shut it. "Wait," he said. "One  
  
kiss?"  
  
"No," I said firmly. "Does this mean you're in love with me?" I asked.  
  
"Yep!" he said happily. "Goodbye!"  
  
*********************  
  
woah weird chappie, huh?? i tried. oh well. i like it. anywho i have nothing to say so umm..  
  
review and have a GREAT day!  
  
ps. i hate this word processor! 


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